The Sword-Maiden's Promise
by Clynester
Summary: Clan Blackthorn. One of the oldest and most powerful families in Skyrim. That was, until the massacre. Now all that remains is Jordis the Sword-Maiden, reduced to the status of Housecarl and with one thought in her mind. To restore the family name back to its original glory. And with the new Thane she's been assigned to, her own quest seems a lot closer to completion than before.
1. Chapter 1

_New story time! I decided over my College break to try and write a longer story than usual and what better universe to do this in the _Elder Scrolls _series? Please give me feedback on this stories - I don't have a solid plan for this one unlike the other stories I write so it will be open for reader suggestions, which I will readily consider for the story. _

_I watched the first _Hobbit _film again recently (how good is it though?!) and this inspired to try and widen the _Elder Scrolls_ universe a little bit more, to include a few more songs than are included in _Skyrim_ (I've rewritten many Irish and Scottish folk songs which I grew up listening to, so they sound a little bit more Tamrielic than Celtic) as well as a few more quirks that I would expect in this sort of world. _

_Please note that this story starts just after the end of the Civil War. The Imperials are victorious and the Stormcloaks defeated. I have a solid idea for the massacre that Jordis talks about (it is also the one mentioned in the blurb of the story) and I will be writing it later so just go with it for now!_

_Until then, enjoy!_

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Jordis stood in the reception room of Proudspire Manor. She had lived in this house and served the previous owner since she was ten. Then, when that Thane had died in the civil war, the city reclaimed the house and removed all the furniture from it. Jordis looked round and sighed. She had never seen it this bare. It had always been full of furniture, of people, or _life_. And now somebody new was going to come along and change all of that.

She heard a key scrabbling in the lock. She smiled slightly. _I might keep quiet about that lock being quite stiff, _she thought. She was snapped back to reality by the sound of a dog barking. _A dog? _Jordis began to panic. _What would_ _Lady Kirste say if she knew that dog was running riot around the carpets and tapestries? I haven't even met the new Thane and already I don't like them! _

The door opened.

Jordis' stomach dropped.

An Imperial officer stood in the doorway, two huskies sitting patiently by his side.

"A very good morning to you," he smiled, extending his hand, "my name is-"

"No! No no no! I will not be a servant of someone who had a helping hand in ruining my life!"

Jordis shoved her way past the bemused Nord in the doorway and walked purposefully toward the Blue Palace, sending citizens scattering. She climbed the stairs in the palace and stopped just in front of Jarl Elisif and Falk Firebeard.

"Uncle," she said respectfully, stepping towards Falk, "a word, if you please."

"Certainly," he said. He led Jordis out of the throne room and down a small flight of stairs into the basement. He motioned to Jordis to wait where she was while he looked round the small room, making sure they were alone. When he was sure that no-one else was there, he turned to Jordis.

"Now, I fear I will not like what you have to say to me, but as I am a patient man, please, speak your mind."

"I don't want to be a Housecarl to an Imperial Officer. I can't be a Housecarl to an Imperial officer."

Confusion spread across Falk Firebeard's face.

"What do you mean you can't be his Housecarl? You are the perfect candidate for him!"

"Excuse me?" Jordis hissed, "I'm not sure if you are aware of our family's history, but there is a manor house north of here that used to belong to my father, who is also your brother, killed by Legionnaires acting on Thalmor orders!"

"I am well aware of what has happened to our family," Falk calmly replied, "which is why I recommended you be his Housecarl. Alarik is a decorated hero of the civil war, the man who slew Ulfric and secured Skyrim's place in the Empire. If you turned down the chance to be his Housecarl then it will seem like you thought you were too good for him. He is a Legate in the Imperial army – a man with access to all sorts of reports. He may be your best option for getting the names of all the soldiers on that patrol. And finally, he's a damn good fighter and if you intend to make as many enemies as you do by avenging the family name then a damn good fighter should be by your side.

"Now, I'll hear no further arguments. You'll thank your Uncle Falk, go back to Alarik and give him this-" Falk gave Jordis a note. Jordis took it sullenly.

"What is it?" She asked. Falk turned and headed back to the throne room as he spoke.

"A chance for you to see your Thane's fighting prowess. Bandits have been harassing travellers on the road to the city again. I want him to go and clear it out. The location is indicated on the page."

They reached the door out to Solitude. Falk stopped and faced Jordis. He kissed her on the top of her head.

"Oh Jordis, I'm sure your parents despair of you sometimes, as they look down from Sovngarde." He smiled softly. "Now go. These bandits have to be dealt with by tonight."

Back in Proudspire manor, Alarik thanked the two Imperial soldiers that had brought all of his equipment from his room in Castle Dour and sat down in one of the chairs. The Imperial soldiers shut the door behind them and Alark took this as a chance to look round his new house.

_A bit plain,_ he thought, _but the steward has given me a list of furnishings available for the house. I'll have to start buying them soon._ His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the huskies barking as they ran around the house, chasing each other up and down the stairs. Alarik got up out of his seat.

"Bran! Sceolang! Here!" He shouted. The two huskies immediately stopped running and walked over to Alarik where they sat and looked up at him patiently. Alarik rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen area. He found two chicken breasts and threw one to Bran and one to Sceolang. They barked their approval and tore into them. Alarik laughed.

"Trust you two to clear out all the meat!" He exclaimed, "I'll have to try and get some from the market at some point."

Alarik went up to the master bedroom while the huskies went and settled themselves down by the fire. He opened up the single chest in the room and pulled out a set of steel plate armour. He took off his Imperial armour and cast it onto the bed, before starting to put on the steel plate armour.

Jordis knocked tentatively on the front door, holding the note. She heard no response, so she took her own key out and unlocked the door, making sure to lift the key in the way that meant it didn't stick. She opened the door and found the two huskies sleeping by the fire.

_Useless dogs they are_, she thought, _good thing I'm not a thief. _She heard scuffling upstairs and figure it was coming from the master bedroom. She went up the stairs and saw that the door was half opened. She went to knock but thought twice and instead had a quick peek round the door. She saw Alarik midway through changing into his armour – he had the steel plate boots and greaves on but his top was bare. Though he was turned away from Jordis she could tell that he was strong – his arms were broad, no doubt from the close fighting he had had to endure. His back muscles were strong as well – something obtained from countless hours of heavy bows. As well as the muscles, his back was also covered in scars – the hidden souvenirs from the civil war. Jordis took a breath and was about to knock when –

"Feel free to come in any time," Alarik said, without turning round.

Jordis opened the door all the way. Alarik reached for his undershirt on the bed and put it on before turning round.

"How did you know I was standing there?" Jordis asked.

"Please," Alarik smiled as he slipped the steel plate curaiss on, "sneaking? In steel boots? I heard you the moment you started climbing the stairs." He reached behind his head for a leather strap and winced when his arm stretched. He dropped it quickly to his side and looked at Jordis.

"I don't suppose you could do the strap up on the back of this armour, could you?" Alarik said, "it's been difficult to reach it since I was injured there."

Jordis went over to him and gave him the note. As Alarik opened it up and read it Jordis slipped the strap through the buckle and tightened it.

"Fort Hraggstad," Alarik mused, reading the sheet. He turned to face Jordis. "Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, my Thane," Jordis said cordially, "the city has always had problems with bandits there. This could be a good source of income if they keep coming ba-"

"I don't care about money!" Alarik exclaimed, storming out of the bedroom, "if there are bandits terrorising the good people of Solitude then I will do my utmost to annihilate them and ensure that there are no more threats!

"Now," he said, turning round and facing Jordis who had followed him into the entrance room, "if we are going to do this together, there must be no animosity between us. So, I am sorry for whatever I did that caused you to storm out of Proudspire. And seeing as we have not been properly introduced, my name is Alarik, Alarik of Clan Seven-Swords."

"I am sorry for storming out on you, my Thane," Jordis said quietly, "I was still quite emotional over the demise of my previous Thane during the civil war and to see someone who had survived it was too much for me. It will not happen again. And my name is Jordis, Jordis the Sword-Maiden, of Clan Blackthorn."

Alarik's eyes widened.

"A real Sword-Maiden? From Clan Blackthorn? Well, I am blessed by the Divines!" He opened the door for Jordis.

"Let's go hunting!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Just outside Fort Hraggstad, a few hours later.**

"I count about ten on patrols round the grounds. Not sure how many there are inside. What do you think?"

Jordis peered over the top of the snow covered mound next to Alarik and started counting the number of bandits in the fort as well.

"Yes, something like that, my Thane," she concurred, "two archers on the ramparts that could cause a problem but they seem to only be carrying iron weapons."

"Excellent. Do you have your bow with you?" Alarik asked. Jordis nodded and pulled the hunting bow off her back. Alarik took it and looked it over.

"Hmm… it's a bit old," he mused, "the string is worn, the wood is pockmarked and it looks to be slightly bent…"

Jordis snatched the bow back. "We don't have to use it, _my Thane_," she said through gritted teeth, pulling an arrow from her quiver and nocking it on the bow. Alarik stiffened and lifted the battleaxe from his back.

"No, no, we'll make do," he said, "start with the archers on the ramparts. When they're down move up and we'll make a start on the bandits inside."

Jordis nodded and Alarik started moving from rock to rock, staying hidden from the bandits all the time. Jordis drew back the bowstring and aimed at one of the archers on the ramparts. She let go and the arrow flew towards the bandit. It punctured the neck and the shaft burst right through the other side. The target barely had time to clutch at his neck before he fell backwards off the rampart, dead before he reached the ground. Jordis immediately nocked another arrow and aimed at the other archer, whose own bow was out. Jordis aimed at his chest and released the string. The arrow shot burst through the bandit's flimsy leather armour and pierced all the way through to his back. He spun round, flung off the rampart and joining his comrade on the floor, both of them dead.

By now Alarik had made it to the doorway into the fort, battleaxe at the ready. He peered round the door and saw a bandit inspecting the two dead bodies. His sword was drawn and he was looking round angrily.

"Who's there!" He was shouting, "show yourself!"

Alarik waited until his back was turned and moved forward so he was behind the bandit. He raised his battleaxe and brought it down on the unsuspecting victim. He struck the man's collarbone, digging the axe deep and severing his right arm completely. The man howled and clutched at the stump with his left hand. Alarik swung the axe again, this time digging into the man's abdomen and nearly splitting the man in two, finishing him off.

With the bandit finally dead on the floor, Alarik turned round and called to Jordis.

"Jordis! Come on! The outside is clear! We need to move inside and finish them off!"

Jordis slung the bow back behind her, picked up her shield and sprinted over to Alarik, who was waiting by the door inside. He counted down from three and swung his battleaxe into the door. The wood splintered and fell off its hinges. Inside, two bandits stared stupidly at the entrance. Jordis, sword drawn rushed inside. She dived at one of the bandits, plunging her sword deep into his chest. The man screamed and fell limp on the sword. Jordis pushed him off with her other hand and slashed at the other bandit's arm, which was reaching for his own sword. The sword cleaved through the bone, the hand dropping to the floor uselessly. A final stab of the sword through the neck finished the bandit off and he collapsed onto the floor.

Alarik now stepped through the doorway, battleaxe drawn. He took a cursory glance at the two dead bandits and turned to face Jordis.

"Go and search that chest for me," he said, "gold and health potions are a definite take and only armour and swords if they are of a high value. We can't afford to carry any old piece of armour."

Jordis went up to the old wooden chest. She looked at the lock. It seemed easy enough to pick.

"Do you have a lockpick, my Thane?" She shouted over her shoulder. Alarik walked up to the chest and jabbed the rusted lock with his battleaxe. The lock smashed and fell to the floor.

"There. That should do it," he said gruffly before turning round again and searching the bandits for gold and other valuables. Jordis opened the chest and looked inside. She took out a small pouch of gold and two even smaller health potions. She then spied something else in the chest.

"How about Dwarven gauntlets?" Jordis shouted over her shoulder again.

"It's up to you," Alarik said, without looking up from searching the bandit, "you'll be carrying them."

"Of course I will," Jordis breathed, picking up the gauntlets. "Gods forbid you carry anything heavy." She stuffed them in a bag attached to her belt and turned back to her Thane. "What now?"

Alarik stood up. "There's another room through there. I haven't seen a bandit wearing any fancy armour in here yet so I assume that the bandit leader will be through that door. Come on. Hopefully he'll be alone."

They both ran over to the door. With both of them having weapons drawn, Alarik cautiously opened the door. He quickly spotted that the bandit leader was sitting at a table. He seemed to be eating and his helmet was next to his plate. Alarik turned to Jordis.

"I'm going to sneak up on him and try and slit his throat," Alarik whispered, drawing his dagger as he spoke, "I want you to grab your bow and keep an eye out. See if there are any other bandits in the room who'll try and kill me."

Jordis nodded and nocked an arrow to her bow. Alarik crouched and started sneaking toward the bandit leader. The bandit seemed oblivious to Alarik's sneaking, and Alarik was soon close enough. As he stood up fully to slit the bandit's throat he felt a rush of air past his ear and instinctively dived out the way, knowing what an arrow felt like when it was close to his ear. The arrow penetrated the bandit leader's head and easily went straight through, appearing on the other side, brains and blood with it. The bandit leader fell forward onto his plate, causing a loud THUNK as flesh hit wood.

Alarik watched this happen and then looked at Jordis. The arrow from her bow had gone and there was a look of grim resolution on her face. She turned to look at Alarik who was on his back, breathing heavily and her eyes suddenly widened.

"Behind you!" She shouted, reaching for another arrow in her quiver as she spoke.

Alarik looked round and saw a huge Orc bearing down on him, greatsword raised high above his head. Alarik, realising that he didn't have time to draw his battleaxe, plunged his dagger into the Orc's leg. The bandit growled but didn't seem to register the pain. He started to swing the sword down. Alarik rolled over into the bandit's legs, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. The bandit moaned and tried to get up. Alarik stood up first and stamped on the bandit's head, pinning him to the ground. He leaned over and picked up the steel helmet that had been on the table and clubbed the bandit's head with it. The bandit howled and tried to get up again. Alarik brought the helmet down again, puncturing the Orc's head, causing a small pool of blood to form. Again and again Alarik beat the helmet on the Orc's head, turning it into a bloody pulp until finally the Orc didn't move.

Alarik reached under the Orc's leg and pulled out his dagger. He looked over at Jordis who was still standing in the doorway.

"What were you thinking?" Alarik shouted, moving to towards Jordis, "you nearly killed me with that arrow, went against the plan and nearly got me killed _again_ when you didn't look out for other bandits and let me find out about the Orc at the last second! You're completely insane!"

"I'm sorry, my Thane," Jordis said quietly, bowing her head as she spoke, "I just…I got mad when I saw that scum of a man. He's been terrorising the city for a few weeks now and…he nearly killed me and my Thane when we were out hunting. I just wanted to take my revenge."

She looked up at Alarik and saw that the stern expression had softened slightly.

"Okay," he said calmly, "I forgive you, seeing as this is our first time doing anything like this together. Next time though," he added as he started searching the dead Orc's pockets, "you follow my orders to the letter. I'm not used to that much spontaneity. Heroics are not exactly encouraged in the Legion. Now search upstairs for another chest, I'm sure there's one lying around."


	3. Chapter 3

_Please don't forget to review, follow or favourite - I really appreciate the feedback!_

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**Somewhere on the road back to Solitude**

"So tell me, how did you become a Housecarl in Haafingar?" Alarik breathed heavily, not looking up from his feet.

The walk back was long. There was a lot of snow on the ground which made each step more tiresome than it already was and they were carrying a lot more than they had left Solitude with. Conversation seemed to be strained, as their energy was more devoted to putting one foot in front of the other than speaking.

"Family problems," Jordis replied, also sounding out of breath, "it wasn't really much of a choice for me."

"So, what was your previous Housecarl-" Alarik was cut off by a low rumble that gently shook the tops of the trees. Birds flew from the trees themselves and various other animals panicked and fled in all directions.

"What was that?" Jordis asked, stopping. Alarik turned to her.

"Drop the bag and run for the city." He said, taking the battleaxe off his back, "you need to warn them. Now."

The rumble was getting louder and closer now and Jordis was starting to feel unsteady on her feet.

"Warn them about what?"

They heard the roar first.

Then they saw the shadow as it flew over the trees.

"Dragon!" Alarik yelled, grabbing Jordis by the arm and dragging her behind a rock, out of sight of the dragon.

"It's heading away from the city," Alarik observed, "come on, if we're quick, we can kill it!" He leapt over the rock, battleaxe in hand, whooping and shouting as he chased the dragon, leaving Jordis behind.

Alarik felt like he was on a high of skooma. He could feel his blood throbbing in his ears as he chased down the dragon, one eye on the sky, watching for its hulking form and one eye on the ground, keeping in mind where he put his feet. Then he saw it again. It had landed and was breathing fire on a herd of deer before snapping each one up in one bite. Alarik crept round until he was on the dragon's blind side and then he ran up a mound of snow. He jumped off the mound, battleaxe raised high and brought it crashing down, with a roar, on the dragon's neck. He saw the axe travel a good distance into the dragon's neck, reinforced by the screech that the dragon gave. Blood exploded either side of the axe blade.

Unfortunately it meant that Alarik was now on the floor next to a wounded dragon and his axe was still sticking out of the dragon's neck. The dragon was swinging his head side to side in an attempt to try and throw the axe free to no avail. Alarik furiously looked around.

_Where in Oblivion has my Housecarl got to?_ He thought.

Back behind the rock, Jordis had seen her Thane get up and chase after the dragon. _What is he doing?_ Jordis thought, _is he really going after that dragon? Does he not know what dragons do? How dangerous they are? Oh, Talos, I'd better go and get him_.

Jordis got up and started running to catch up with her Thane. As she got closer she heard more shouts and roars coming from where the dragon had landed. She stood on the rock from which Alarik had jumped and saw him rolling around on the floor, dodging the dragon's feet which came ever close to his head.

Alarik looked up and saw Jordis standing there motionless.

"Don't just stand there!" He shouted, "shoot the damn thing!"

Jordis just looked at Alarik, frozen to the spot. She'd never seen a dragon this close. Her previous Thane, Lady Kirste, had always made sure that they avoided dragons on the roads and that if one had to be fought then they had help from city guards. Now, her brute of a new Thane had chased after this one, putting her own life in danger and all for glory, of that she was sure. She half felt as though she should just leave him to it, until she saw him scramble away from the dragon and run towards her. He gripped her by her arms and shook her.

"Terrified of a dragon?" His smile was broad, even through the dirt and dragon blood on his face, "it's okay, happens to everyone. Now, give me your sword and get to cover! You're no use to anyone dead."

He grabbed Jordis' sword and pushed her off the rock with himself as the dragon's tail swept over. If they had stayed there any longer then they would have been flattened for sure.

"Ha-ha!" Alarik shouted, picking himself up out from the snow, wielding Jordis' sword. He ran underneath the dragon, dodging the wing until he reached the soft underbelly of the beast.

"May Talos guide me in what I am about to do," he said softly to himself, before thrusting the sword up into the dragon. The dragon screeched loud again, rearing up. Alarik kept hold of the sword and pulled it out from the dragon. He ran forward again and stabbed the sword in a different part of the underbelly, pushing it in all the way up to the hilt before pulling it out again. Time after time he simply plunged the sword into the dragon, creating huge gashes in the lower part of the dragon's stomach.

The dragon swayed unsteadily, rocking back and forth on its hind legs until it eventually fell forward. Alarik dived out the way again and the dragon collapsed forward in the snow. Alarik walked forward to pull his axe out of the dragon's neck and as he did so, the whole dragon's body started to glow a fierce gold. The whole body seemed to burn up and transformed into a blue and gold aura of energy, which made a beeline for Alarik, who was undisturbed by it. He went about wrenching his axe free of the dragon and cleaning it off on the cloth which hang from his waist. He turned to face Jordis, who was now standing up in the snow where she had fallen. He was laughing.

"Well?" He said, arms spread wide, "what do you think?"

"What do I think?" Jordis started walking towards him until she was within arms' reach, "I think you have lost your mind! You have no regard for your life, you certainly don't care about mine! You chased after a dragon – which, I must add, is famous for killing people – without waiting for any sort of help from the city! And, to top it all off, you did some crazy magic thing with it! It-" she pointed at the dragon- "was all scaly and fleshy until it started glowing and now it's just a skeleton! My previous Thane mentioned something about that sort of power…Oh Gods," Jordis said, panicking, "you're a Dragonborn, aren't you? Well, that's excellent! Killing dragons is your specialty and so you're going to try and hunt them down wherever you go! Great – my Thane is a dragon hunter! Sorry, did I say Thane? I meant ex-Thane! I'm done! I quit! I can't spend my life chasing after these things! You're on your own! Goodbye!"

She turned and stormed off towards the city, her steel armour making a rattling sound as she walked.


	4. Chapter 4

**At the Winking Skeever, Solitude**

Jordis sat quietly at a corner table in the tavern, watching the rest of the people in the tavern celebrate, nursing a bottle of mead. She wasn't sure why everyone was so happy – maybe there had been a wedding in the city since she had left with her former Thane. That was, until somebody saw her.

"There she is!" He shouted, "one of the heroes!"

Suddenly the entire room was silent as Jordis felt all the eyes focus on her. Then the people surged forward, all shouting at her.

"Well done!"

"You saved us!"

"Thank you!"

One of the crowd managed to push everyone out of the way and grabbed the chair opposite Jordis. He sat down and waved the others away.

"Give her some room!" The burly Nord said, "she's had a long day!" As the crowd gradually drifted back to celebrating, Jordis leaned forward to the Nord.

"I'm sorry, I've been out of the city for a few hours, what's everyone celebrating for?" She asked. The Nord slapped a plate-sized hand on the table and laughed.

"Why, the reason you've been out of the city is the reason we're celebrating!" He said, "The dragon! That thing had been flying dangerously close to the city for a while now. We all retreated into our houses until we heard the roars of pain coming from the dragon, over the hill out the city. We assumed that it had been killed and since somebody had seen you and your Thane leaving the city, heading for Fort Hraggstad we put two and two together and…" The Nord trailed off, eyebrow raised.

Jordis gave a short sharp chuckle. "I'm sorry, but I didn't really do much in that battle."

"Oh, of course," the Nord gave another toothless grin, "I know how it works. I was a Housecarl once as well. Let me guess, you do all the hard work while your Thane comes up with an epic poem to describe his heroic victory defeating the dragon, and then he pays you to keep quiet while he claims the glory. I know how it works," he repeated.

"I assure you, that was not what happened," Jordis raised the tankard of ale to her lips again.

"Well, however it worked out, the pair of you did the city a huge favour. Solitude is in your debt."

As he finished, a huge cheer came up from the door of the Winking Skeever.

"Sounds like your Thane has arrived," the Nord said, standing up, "I'll leave you two in peace."

The Nord left as Alarik walked over to the table, a bottle of ale in his hand. He set the ale down on the table and then sat down. Silently, he pulled out a templewarden's pipe and put it in his mouth, the long stem protruding out and nearly sitting on the table. He then reached into a pouch attached to his belt and brought out some tobacco. He packed the tobacco into his pipe, pressing it down slightly so the bowl of his pipe was half full. He then took out a match, lit it against the table, and gently circled it over the tobacco, drawing as he did so. Once he had done this, he puffed on the pipe until it had gone out, and then lit it again. He sat there silently drawing in the smoke for a few more seconds until Jordis leaned forward.

"I need to know," she hissed, "why did you kill that dragon? Because as far as I'm concerned, you did it for the spoils of the dragon, but as far as the people of Solitude are concerned, you saved them. You'd better not be taking advantage of these people-"

"I'm not," Alarik said flatly, taking the pipe out of his mouth, "the dragon was flying too close to the city. I saw Markarth get attacked by a dragon and while it survived, it was not without casualties and damage to the city. I didn't want the same thing happening here." Finished, he put the pipe back in his mouth and continued to draw on it.

"And the gold? I've heard the legends – dragons hoard gold like nobody's business."

Alarik laughed.

"Gold? Where is a dragon going to store the gold? You saw the skeleton after I absorbed the dragon's soul – there was no gold on it. Not even an iron boot.

"Now, I want to speak to you about your career choice. I understand you were angry when you left. I had no right to drag you into that fight, fun though it was. So, I'm going to be frank. If you remain as my Housecarl, I will promise danger, adventure, almost definite injury, possible death by dismemberment, incineration and maybe some torture as well, depending on who we run into. If you say yes, I will make it worthwhile. If you say no, I won't hold it against you."

He leaned back. "What do you say?"

Jordis smiled enigmatically. "I say yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to Proudspire Manor, my Thane. I am incredibly tired from today's activities. I'll feed your dogs when I get home as well."

"Goodnight," the Thane said, picking up his bottle of ale.

When Jordis woke the following morning, she didn't have half the headache she was expecting. _Maybe I didn't drink as much as I thought I did_, she thought, as she sat up in her bed.

Suddenly she heard creaking floorboards. Her ears picked up and she reached over for a pair of fabric trousers and an undershirt. She quickly slipped them on and grabbed a dagger. She climbed the stairs from the basement cautiously.

_If it's my Thane, then I have nothing to worry about, _she thought, _but he seemed quite keen to sit there at the Winking Skeever last night and drink away. I doubt he'd be awake this early in the morning._

As she reached the last step she spotted an unfamiliar figure, crouching down and stroking Sceolang behind the ear. The husky didn't seem all that angry toward her and Jordis rolled her eyes at the dog's useless ability at guarding. As Jordis stepped closer to the intruder she started to recognize her.

"Erdi?" Jordis asked, putting the dagger away, "what are you doing here"

Erdi, one of the maids at the Blue Palace, stood up immediately. Jordis noticed that she was only wearing an undershirt that clearly wasn't hers – could it be Alarik's?

"I…er…well," Erdi began, but Jordis put her hand up to silence her.

"You didn't, did you?" She asked. Erdi nodded.

"With _him_? With Alarik?" Erdi nodded again. Jordis threw her hands up in the air.

"Gods, Erdi! Are you on a quest to bed every man in Solitude? How much did you charge this one?"

"I'm not a common whore!" Erdi said defensively, "it's just, it gets so lonely, in the Blue Palace, all by myself." Erdi stepped forward to Jordis while she spoke. When she was close to Jordis, she started twirling Jordis' hair in her fingers.

"You know, I've never bedded a woman before," Erdi whispered, "but I'll give it a try, just for you."

Jordis pushed her away.

"You need to leave. Now." Jordis said.

"Dressed as I am?" Erdi asked.

"When Alarik finds out what manner of diseases you've probably got, walking to the Blue Palace in just a shirt is going to be the least of your worries. Here," Jordis kicked off her own fur boots, "wear these as well. Return them first chance you get – they're far more comfortable than my steel ones."

"Thank you, Jordis." Erdi smiled, slipped on the boots and quickly left. Jordis sighed and started to climb the stairs to her Thane's bedroom. She stopped by the door and knocked twice. Alarik grunted and sat up.

"Who is it?"

"It is your Housecarl, my Thane." Jordis said, "I bumped into Erdi downstairs this morning."

"Oh, was that her name? She just said she wanted to thank me for defeating the dragon." Alarik smiled. "I'm glad she did."

"Well, you won't be glad now," Jordis said, leaning against the doorframe, "Erdi's bed holds the record for being the least used in the whole city."

The smile disappeared from Alarik's face. "What do you mean?"

Jordis rolled her eyes. "Gods, do I have to spell it out? She doesn't use her bed because she's busy using other men's – and not for sleeping. I suggest, first chance you get, you visit the doctor, up at Castle Dour and get looked at – there are a lot of diseases you could have contracted."

Smirking, Jordis left the room and shut the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! I'm sorry it took me a while to get this chapter uploaded - I've usually been quite good at uploading every other day, but preparing for Christmas has taken up a lot of time - and my birthday is two days after that! Posting may be a bit slower until the New Year but seeing as I'm getting a laptop myself for Christmas I'll take it as a chance to write more! Either way, I hope you accept my apology and please read, rate and review this chapter - I fear I may lose a few people because of what happens at the end! Personally, I find it a cracker!

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Mistveil Keep loomed ominously out in front of Alarik and Jordis as they stared upwards at it, the great stone building making the other wooden houses of Riften seem insignificant.

"It won't take more than a few minutes," Alarik said, "All I'm doing is renegotiating a trade agreement between Solitude and Riften. There was one before the war and since the previous Jarl of Riften supported the Stormcloaks, the trade agreement was conveniently forgotten about. All we're doing is reminding the new Jarl who put her in her position."

A Riften guard opened the heavy wooden door and Alarik and Jordis entered. Sitting calmly on the throne was Maven Black-Briar, wearing very regal attire. Beside her stood her Housecarl, a big brute of a man, with a nasty battleaxe behind his back. On her other side was whom Alarik assumed was the steward and thus the person he would probably conduct his deal with.

When the pair reached the bottom of the steps leading up to the Jarl's throne, they stopped and dropped to one knee.

"My Jarl," Alarik asked respectfully, "I am here to engage a trade agreement between the cities of Riften and Solitude."

He looked up at Maven, who sneered.

"Continue," she replied haughtily.

"Well, there was an agreement, before the war, between the two cities, that Solitude would supply Riften with a bounty of fish, on the condition that Riften would send wheat to Solitude. This agreement was honoured by both parties for many years until the Usurper Stormcloak divided Skyrim and the previous Jarl of Riften chose her allegiance.

"Since the Empire has now replaced her with a suitable Jarl, Solitude would like to remind said new Jarl of who has given her the throne."

When he finished, he looked up at Maven, whose sneer had disappeared.

"So the Empire are blackmailing me?" Maven asked. Before Alarik could respond, she waved him away.

"Very well," she announced, "I'm going to defer to my steward for this so please speak to him regarding the rest of this business. I'm afraid your Housecarl is not allowed in the rest of the castle. She will have to go somewhere else."

Alarik stood up and turned to Jordis.

"Go to the Bee and Barb," he said, walking up the stairs, "I'll come get you there."

In the Bee and Barb, Jordis sat on her own as she usually did in a tavern, nursing a single pint of ale and scowling at everyone else in the tavern. She looked round at everyone warily, sizing everyone up and looking at the variety of weapons on display, when her eyes rested on a young Imperial man sitting on a bench, staring at her intently. When she held his gaze for a bit longer than anticipated he got up, walked over and sat down at the table, opposite Jordis.

"So," he said, "you going to buy me a drink? Nah, I'm just kidding! Hey, lizard!" He called out to the barman, "bring me a tall one!

"So, my name is Marcurio, swordfighter extraordinaire. And who are you?" He asked, staring into Jordis' eyes. Jordis looked away.

"I…I am a Housecarl for Alarik, Thane of Solitude, who also happens to be my… husband." Her voice trailed off at the end but she hoped this Imperial would get the message.

"That's great dear, but I didn't ask for your job or marital status, I asked for your name," he said, the smile slowly fading from his face.

Jordis could feel the panic rising in her. "My name, is Jordis," she finally said uncertainly. The Imperial's smile suddenly returned.

"There!" He exclaimed, "that wasn't so hard was it?" The Argonian barkeep had come over to the table with the drink. The Imperial snatched it off of him and threw five Septims at him.

"And you say you're from Haafingar?" Marcurio asked. Jordis nodded. As she nodded, she noticed Marcurio's hand slowly move away from his tankard and into his cloak.

"Tell me," he whispered, "does the lord of Blackthorn Manor still observe the tradition of hospitality with guests?"

Jordis felt her stomach drop. _How does he know?_

Suddenly the man lunged across the table, his right hand removed from his cloak revealing a thin dagger aimed at Jordis' neck. Jordis kicked herself backwards and her chair fell back just in time – any longer and Marcurio's dagger would have penetrated her neck. However, she was now on the floor, with Marcurio pinning her arms down with his legs. He raised the dagger high and plunged it down. Jordis quickly raised her knee between the Imperial's legs. He grunted and Jordis felt his weight shift slightly from her arms. She quickly slid her right arm out from under his knee and punched him in the stomach twice. Marcurio fell back, dropping the dagger. Jordis leapt on top of him and pointed the dagger at his neck, making sure it just nicked the skin. The entire tavern had fallen silent, watching in morbid fascination.

"Tell me," she shouted at Marcurio, "what do you know about Blackthorn Manor?" Marcurio just stared defiantly at her, his mouth firmly shut. Jordis pushed the dagger a little deeper into his neck. The blood was now flowing from the wound a lot more. Marcurio cried out.

"So he can speak!" Jordis said, "what do you know about Blackthorn Manor? When did you visit there? Were you…were you part of the patrol?"

Marcurio looked up at Jordis and smiled at that.

"Yes, I was part of the patrol," he finally said, "I was the Battlemage – it was me who killed the heir to Clan Blackthorn! I burned him up," Marcurio grinned, "I recognized you the moment you walked through that door," he gestured to the door to the tavern, "you were one of the lord's children. The flames practically jumped from my hands that night. Your brother, no more than ten years old. And I burnt him up!" Marcurio was laughing now, a manic laugh, as if telling this horrific story he had kept secret for twenty years was driving him slowly insane.

"He stood there, watching me, holding this sword that was far too big for him and he ran at me, trying to stab me. All it took was a few seconds of heat, and 'poof', the heir to Clan Blackthorn was no more than a charred mess on the floor."

Jordis was crying now. Hot tears ran down her face, but she kept the knife at Marcurio's neck.

"What happened to the rest of the patrol?" She said quietly.

"You may as well kill me," Marcurio said dismissively, "I'll say no more. I don't regret what I did."

Jordis moved the dagger away from his neck and stabbed it into his chest.

"Bastard!" She cried as she plunged the dagger in and out of him, stabbing his neck, chest, arms, head and anywhere else she could.

"Murdering, evil bastard!" She kept on shouting. Soon Marcurio's body was nothing more than a disfigured, bloody mess. Suddenly she felt a sharp edge against her own neck. Jordis slowly looked up into the eye-holes of a guard's helmet.

"Make any move and I'll run you through," he hissed, "put the dagger down and stand up slowly."

Jordis, cursing to herself softly, threw the dagger aside and stood up. She felt the guard's sword drop from her neck, but decided against doing anything to try and escape. She feared her Thane would probably hunt her down and kill her himself. That is, if he wasn't going to now.

The guard grabbed her hands which had been up by her head and twisted them down behind her back. He pulled out a length of rope and tied roughly round Jordis' hands, making sure that the rope was tight enough to cut into her wrists slightly.

"Killing a former member of the Legion?" The guard snarled as he frogmarched her out of the tavern, "I hope they put you away for life."

She had only been in there for a few hours, but Jordis already hated the cell. It was damp, cold and stank of a combination of urine and alcohol. The guards had picked this cell especially for her, vacating the drunk beggar who had occupied it before.

She lay back on what was considered a bed in the cell, trying to ignore the insults thrown at her by the guards ("killing a Legionnaire, have you no shame?") and the lewd comments from one of the prisoners in a lavish cell opposite hers ("come on, just take your clothes off for a bit, I'll get you a lesser sentence if you do so!").

She heard a commotion come from the entrance to the jail. Several raised voices were heard until one was louder than the rest and she heard it clearly.

"I don't care what she did! I am her Thane and I stand here with a pardon for Jordis the Sword-Maiden, coming from Jarl Maven Black-Briar! If you have a problem I suggest you take it up with her!"

Alarik stormed through the rest of the guards, not stopping until he was standing outside Jordis' cell. Jordis jumped off the bed. Alarik looked at her, unsmiling and shouted over his shoulder.

"Get me the key to this cell. Now!"

A guard came over and opened the cell door. Jordis rushed out.

"My Thane, thank you so much for coming to save me. I am truly sorry for what I did," she blurted out. Alarik simply turned round and walked out, leaving Jordis to break into a fast walk to keep up with him.

"You're lucky that I just struck a very fortuitous trade agreement with the Jarl of Riften," Alarik said, without looking back, "she agreed to let the charge slide. However, you're not allowed within the city walls for a year. The nearest tavern from here is the Vilemyr Inn, in Ivarstead. When we get there, you are going to explain exactly what went through your head."

At the Vilemyr Inn, Alarik and Jordis took a table. Alarik paid the barkeep for two tankards of mead and sat down with Jordis. He took out his pipe and prepared it for smoking. As he pressed the tobacco into the bowl of the pipe he spoke.

"Now. What you say next will determine whether or not you stay as my Housecarl. Your reasoning behind this had better be flawless."

Jordis took a deep breath and began.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for my unreasonably long hiatus - the story was very briefly lost when I transferred stuff from my old laptop to my new one - however, now I am back and with an apology chapter as well.

However, College work has caught up with me and so I will be taking a longer break than before - I still have two chapters including this one so I will upload them but after that it may be a few months before I can get back to you. I'm very sorry and I assure you I will return and finish this story. I am also planning a James Bond story as well so be prepared for that! Of course, I will finish this one first!

So read and enjoy! And welcome back!

P.S. To get full appreciation of this chapter, some knowledge of events before Skyrim is required, (such as the Great War and the Markarth Incident). I suggest UESP (Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages) to look the stuff up, otherwise message me and I can happily fill you in with what you need/want to know. My knowledge of Elder Scrolls lore (especially 4th Era) is rather substantial!

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**The Imperial City, Cyodiil, First Seed 4E178**

Lorkmir Blackthorn woke up early that day. Something had been gnawing at him all through the night. Maybe it was homesickness. He hadn't seen his wife or children in 6 years, when he had joined the Legion during the Great War. Since the war had ended, three years ago, General Jonna's legions had stayed in and around the Imperial City, acting as an impromptu city guard.

He dressed in his Legion Officer's army, leaving his helmet on his bed and opened the flap to his tent. The sun partly blinded him, same as it did every morning. He shielded his eyes and looked around the rest of the camp. Those legionnaires that couldn't be billeted in watch towers in the Imperial City were camped just the other side of the Talos bridge, a name which the Aldmeri Dominion had banned from ever being used. Also in the camp was General Jonna, commander of the Nord Legions. His tent was the largest, with large flags bearing the Imperial seal flying high over the red fabric.

Lorkmir squinted down the hill his own tent was on and saw a Legion soldier running up the hill to him. When the soldier had reached the top of the hill he stopped in front of Lorkmir and stood to attention.

"Tribune Blackthorn sir!" He said loudly and clearly. Lorkmir winced. The legionnaire's voice was still far too loud for this early in the morning.

"Yes?" Lorkmir said, "what do you want?"

"General Jonna has requested your presence in his tent, sir," the legionnaire said.

"Thank you," Lorkmir sighed, "I'll be down as soon as I can."

The legionnaire turned and left. Lorkmir went back into his tent and grabbed his helmet from the bed. He may as well make himself look presentable, even if the helmet was incredibly uncomfortable. He then left his tent and headed down the hill to General Jonna's tent.

Jonna's tent was huge, easily twice the size of Lorkmir's tent and as a Tribune, Lorkmir's tent was a good size. A large double bed, weighed down by furs sat in the far corner. A writing desk was pushed up against the wall of the tent, upon which books were stacked in high piles. Several other tables dotted the interior of the tent and Imperial officers surrounded them, surveying maps of Tamriel. Jonna was standing at the head of these tables and he looked up when Lorkmir walked in.

"Ah! Lorkmir!" Jonna stepped away from the table and walked over to Lorkmir at the entrance of the tent, a smile etched on his face, "how are you, my good man?"

Jonna was short for a Nord, but a life in the Imperial Legion had given him a broad and strong body. His hair was a dirty blond and shoulder-length and his beard was unkempt. He held out a hand. Lorkmir clasped it.

"All the better for seeing you, sir, though to be honest I'm getting bored of waiting around here. I only hope that the Emperor releases us so I can go back home."

The smile quickly disappeared from Jonna's face at that point. He walked over to his writing desk and pulled a letter out from underneath a pile of books.

"I'm afraid you're going to get your wish, but not in the way you expected. I assume you remember Ulfric Stormcloak"

Ulfric. He had been a centurion in the Legion. A fine soldier and an inspiration to the men. But he had not been satisfied with the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, so he had taken a good deal of the Legion and left for Skyrim. Lorkmir had considered going with them but had decided against it – he didn't want to put his family at risk.

"Yes sir, but he left two years ago. I didn't think we'd hear anything of him and his militia again."

"Well, don't expect anything," Jonna smiled, "I received this letter from Elenwen, First Emissary to Skyrim. It pertains to Ulfric and his recent goings-on." He cleared his throat and started to read from the letter.

"In light of actions carried out by the Thanes of certain holds, it has come to the attention of the Aldmeri Dominion that the lesser nobility of Skyrim has yet to grasp the notion of a new set of rules that they must follow. While the Jarls of Skyrim fully cooperate with Thalmor activities, their Thanes seem to openly defy our orders. This reached a climax when Ulfric Stormcloak, Thane of Eastmarch massacred an entire people in the Pale and went against one of the terms of the White-Gold Concordat. Though the uprising was swiftly dealt with, there is still room for disobedience within the province. Therefore, all Thanes of Skyrim are to return to the Jarls of their prospective holds, where they will swear an oath of loyalty to their Jarl and to the hold, supervised by an Aldmeri representative. These oaths will be received by the Jarls no later than the end of Hearth Fire of the year 4E178. Failure to do so will incur a punishment."

Jonna put the letter back on the desk and stood respectfully, waiting for Lorkmir to digest the information. Lorkmir himself felt sick.

"I have six months to travel from the Imperial City to the Blue Palace?" He finally blurted out, "that's impossible! Even the Thalmor can't be evil enough to expect me to make that journey!"

"I'm sorry," Jonna said, "the letters are dated Sun's Dusk, 4E177. They took four months to find you. Every other Thane has received the letter. Not all of them are going to take the journey - some of them are going into hiding in the mountains. The Thalmor are clever – they're making you swear an oath to your Jarl and your hold. They know you wouldn't swear allegiance to them. I have written a letter to give to your Jarl – it states that the Thalmor were four months late in giving you the letter and so you had less time to travel than everyone else. I am going to honourably dismiss you from the Imperial Legion, Tribune Blackthorn. Your pay has already been counted out – collect it from the clerk when you leave."

Jonna held out his hand again.

"May Talos guide you, old friend."

Lorkmir took hold of it.

"You look after yourself too," he said.

**The Blue Palace, Solitude, First Seed 4E179**

Lorkmir sighed as he walked past the guards in Solitude. It had taken him a year to get here – it had felt like the Thalmor had done everything they could to delay his arrival. He had had difficulty crossing the border from Skyrim to Cyrodiil, foot patrols in both Skyrim and Cyrodiil seemed intent on searching him each time they saw him, making sure to relieve him of some of his Septims each time they passed. The number of toll booths on the roads had increased a phenomenal amount, again each one wanting a small portion of his pay to let him walk.

By the time he had reached Solitude his bag that had once been full to the brim with Septims contained almost nothing. He hadn't even been in to see his family at Blackthorn Manor, just north-east of the city – he had just come straight to the Blue Palace to meet with Istlod, the Jarl of Solitude and High King of Skyrim and the person he would deliver his oath to.

A guard at the Blue Palace opened the door for him and Lorkmir stood inside. He looked up the stairs and saw the High King of Skyrim, Istlod, sitting on the throne. He looked a lot older than Lorkmir remembered – his hair had more gray than dark brown, but he still sat bolt upright, an imposing sight when wearing his regalia.

Lorkmir walked up the stairs and stood in front of the High King. He noticed that standing next to the High King's throne was a High Elf wearing long flowing robes. The elf held a look of contempt on her face as she watched Lorkmir arrive. Lorkmir also noticed his brother, Falk Firebeard standing a little way off, smiling slightly as he watched Lorkmir ascend the steps. Lorkmir immediately sank to one knee and bowed his head.

"My Lord, I apologise profusely for my late arrival. I come bearing a letter from General Jonna explaining why I am late. It should cover-"

"A late slip?" The high elf sneered, "you arrive with a late sip? That sort of thing is reserved for children to give to their schoolmasters. You are not expected to arrive here with a late slip," the elf continued haughtily, "you are expected to arrive here on time."

Istlod spoke for the first time. "Thane Blackthorn, it is good to see you again. I trust your family are pleased to see you?"

"I have not been to see them, my king. I came straight here."

"Such loyalty to the crown! I made a good choice when I decided to make you a Thane! Lorkmir, this is Emissary Elenwen, First Emissary to Skyrim. She is here to oversee your oath to Haafingar. Falk, collect the letter from Lorkmir."

Falk stepped forward and took the letter that Jonna had written. He opened it and read it.

"It states that the messenger was four months late in finding Lorkmir, my king. This meant that Thane Blackthorn only had six months to cross half of Cyrodiil and the entire province of Skyrim. Considering that security has been stepped up on the borders and the roads of the Empire, delaying everybody's journey, I would say that Thane Blackthorn has overcome a lot to travel here to give the oath."

"Indeed," Istlod agreed, "and at least he has arrived to give his oath – a feat that more than a few Thanes have yet to accomplish. The letter will be taken into account."

Elenwen sniffed. "Very well," she said, "take the oath."

Istlod stood up from the throne. Lorkmir noticed that he had the sword of Haafingar attached at his waist – a longsword made of Skyforge Steel when the Companions first started working the Skyforge.

"Do you, Thane Lorkmir of Clan Blackthorn, promise to obey and uphold the laws and decrees of Haafingar hold, no matter what they may be?"

"I promise," Lorkmir said.

"Do you swear to defend all those who bide by the laws and strike at those who refuse to accept the laws?"

"I swear." Lorkmir replied.

"And finally, do you understand that should you break these laws yourself you will be persecuted by those who defend them, your family will be disgraced and Clan Blackthorn will no longer be welcome in Haafingar?"

"I…I understand." Lorkmir finally said.

"Then stand, Thane Blackthorn. I have received your oath and because you have provided a valid excuse for your lateness there will be no repercussions." Istlod helped Lorkmir to his feet and clasped his hand. "Now go. Go and see your family."

**Jordis stopped fiddling with the knife she held in her hands and stabbed it into the wooden table, taking Alarik slightly by surprise.**

**"No repercussions," she murmured, "my father should have known not to trust anything that came out of that puppet's mouth, especially when that Thalmor bitch stood beside him."**


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry that this is going to be the final chapter for a couple of weeks until my essays have been handed in, but when they have I am going to be back fighting! I'm glad that this story has been so well-received. Just a quick warning, I may have to change the rating for the story to M if I go ahead with some chapter ideas in my head! Like I say, I'm very happy that so many people like the story so thank you for that and I hope you will all be there ready when I hit you with it.

Lastly, I have a good idea for a James Bond story as well, so let me know if you want me to write that or do another Skyrim one. And of course send me a message or leave me a review if there is anything you want me to include in 'The Sword-Maiden's Promise'!

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**Blackthorn Manor, 4E182**

Time passed by over the next few years as it normally did. Gradually, Blackthorn Manor slowly returned to the way it had been, before the war. The Clan Chieftain, Lorkmir, was now home and conducting business. His wife, Fryssa the Sword-Maiden had been the Chieftain of the clan when Lorkmir left for war and was also his bodyguard, a tradition that had been upheld since the clan came into being.

As other soldiers returned home to take up their former positions as staff of Blackthorn Manor the house became a more lively place than it had been for the past few years. The guards that arrived also took up training Havilstein, Lorkmir's son and heir to Clan Blackthorn. Hunters would leave the grounds in the morning and come home late into the evening, laden down with their spoils from the day. The apprentice servants, young men who had not taken a profession would help the hunters carry the food in to the kitchens where cooks and kitchen-maids would prepare it. Lumberjacks would also spend the day out, cutting down the huge trees that surrounded Blackthorn Manor. They would then be dragged into the big hall where they would be cut up into logs and stacked by the fireplace ready for the evening's celebrations.

Every evening was like one large party. All the members of the household gathered in the main hall where a roaring fire warmed the entire room. Huge tables were weighed down by food that the the hunters had killed that very day. Wine, mead and ale flowed freely and entertainment was laid on, be it in the form of dancers, jugglers or minstrels.

Jordis loved the evenings. Guests would come from all over Tamriel to attend one of Clan Blackthorn's parties. While the food and drink weren't the most fancy and the entertainment was not as extravagant as could be found in the parties in upper-class Cyrodiil, Clan Blackthorn were one of the most powerful families in Skyrim. In previous years the High Kings of Skyrim had often deferred to the wisdom of their Blackthorn advisers, so many noblemen saw having a Blackthorn as a friend as a way of gaining power in Skyrim. This included lords and ladies from High Rock who turned up with gifts of gold and silver in chests taller than Jordis was, the Alik'r nobility from Hammerfell who always wore flimsy clothes which were fine in their own country but not in the mountains of Skyrim and the Counts and Countesses from Cyrodiil, where the men wore capes and cloaks which were covered in sapphires and emeralds and the ladies looked like princesses, wearing billowing ball gowns and circlets that had gold inlaid with silver. Jordis hoped one day to live in Cyrodiil, married to a Count of one of the great cities where she would be good and kind to all the people and they would love her and call her name as she walked down the street. She wanted to believe that the young Imperials came to Blackthorn to court her and ask her father for his blessing but she knew that she was only a six year old girl and they would not be interested in her.

Tonight, however, there were no guests due at the meal. Lorkmir decided that tonight would be a night for Clan Blackthorn. It had been seven years to the day that the Great War had ended and though many men had returned to Blackthorn Manor, many had not. The meal tonight would be a chance for them to reflect on those that had died and be thankful for those that had come home.

The air in the main hall was one of festivity. The Chieftain and his family sat at the head table, eating the finest of the food and drink. Everyone else fitted in at the tables where possible, diving in to the birds and deer meat that was at the table. Every now and then one of the servants would get up with a basket full of meat and take it out to the guards still on patrol around the walls of Blackthorn Manor. The minstrels played songs in the hall, many of them tunes that the men had brought home from the Legion:

_"Oh come tell me Sven the Younger tell me why you hurry so,"  
"Hush, my boy now, hush and listen," and his cheeks were all aglow.  
"I bear orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon,  
For the swords must be together by the rising of the moon."_

"Oh come tell me Sven the Younger where the gath'rin is to be"  
"At the old spot by the river quite well known to you an' me,  
One more word for signal token whistle out the marchin' tune  
With your axe upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon."

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon  
With your axe upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out of many a mud wall cabin, eyes were watching through the night,  
Many a-manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light  
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the spriggan's lonely croon,  
And a thousand swords were flashing by the rising of the moon,

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,  
And a thousand swords were flashing by the rising of the moon,

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen  
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green,  
"Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marchin' tune  
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom at the rising of the moon!"

Suddenly one of the guards from outside burst into the hall. He ran up to the head table, watched by everyone else in the hall. When he reached Lorkmir he dropped to one knee.

"My Lord, there is an Imperial patrol outside. They look to be in a bad way, many of them are wounded and they say they have no food. The weather has taken a turn for the worst – if we turn them away I fear they may not survive. What shall we do?"

Lorkmir thought for a few minutes as the room fell silent. He then smiled and spread his arms wide.

"Let us welcome them then! We follow the old customs of hospitality here! Bring them all in!" The hall erupted into applause and the guard went outside to collect the patrol. He returned a few seconds later leading the Imperial patrol. To say they were in a bad way was an underestimate. They were all bloodied and bandaged up one way or another. Some had bandages over arms and legs, some had bandages over eyes and were leaning on their comrades. When Lorkmir saw how bad they were, he snapped into action.

"Clear those tables of food down there!" He commanded, "lay the worst casualties on them! Bring me the patrol commander – I want to know what happened here. Gather up whatever food can be spared and start distributing round. Let's go!"

Food was swept off the table and onto the floor. The blinded soldiers and those with leg injuries were laid on the tables and the others were found chairs. A guard found the patrol commander and brought him to Lorkmir.

"Greetings, Thane Blackthorn. My name is Captain Vitellus. My patrol and I will forever be in your debt for letting us in."

"Think nothing of it, Captain. I'm a former member of the Legion myself – always happy to help. What happened to your patrol?"

"We were on our way back to Castle Dour from Markarth when we were ambushed. A group of Nords who deserted the Legion after the Great War and are hiding out, attacking Imperial patrols where they can."

Lorkmir scratched his head thoughtfully.

"I've not heard that happening in the area. Still, unfortunately your patrol is proof that they are carrying out attacks. Your men are free to bed down here until your wounded are better and you can carry on back to Solitude. I'm afraid it will be a bit cramped in here – the guards and some of the servants sleep in here as well."

"You are too kind, my Thane."

**"The Legion patrol stayed in Blackthorn Manor for two days and two nights," Jordis said, taking a bite from her apple as she spoke, "they helped around the house, cutting up wood, carrying out guard duties and tending to their wounded. However, during the second night, they finally revealed why they were here." **

During the night, there was complete silence in the Manor. The fire had died down from the evening's feast and the only people left awake were the guards, patrolling the grounds.

Captain Vitellus woke up and climbed out from under his blanket. He pulled on a set of leather armour and attached his sword to the belt. He then went round and quietly woke the other Imperials. They got up and put on their armour. Those with bandages on slipped them off, revealing no wounds at all. Vitellus went over to his Battlemage who was doing up his boot.

"Marcurio, take Primo and Gaius and start going round the grounds. Destroy the gates and use that destruction power to block off any other exits."

Marcurio nodded and he left with two of the soldiers.

"Jordis! Jordis!"

Jordis woke with a start and saw her parents' bodyguard, Holmar, standing over her, shaking her.

"What is it?"

"We need to go, my lady." He was now throwing a set of clothes and a pair of boots over to Jordis. While she was getting changed Holmar stood outside, keeping an eye out. He came back in when she was ready.

"Holmar, what's going on?"

"The manor is under attack! There are fires burning at all the exits and the raiders are inside. It's the Legion patrol! They killing the guards – we need to leave. We're going to your parents' room first."

Holmar drew his sword and went outside, making sure Jordis was behind him. They ran down corridor after corridor, both of them aware of the shouts from the Legion and the cries from the Nords.

They reached Lorkmir's and Fryssa's room. Holmar tried to open the door but it didn't move. He panicked slightly, raising his boot and kicking once and the door. It buckled slightly but didn't open. He tried once more and the door flung open. Flames leapt out from the room. Holmar dived out the way, covering Jordis and protecting her from the fire. When the fire had died down a bit more, Holmar ran through the doorway and Jordis followed him. The sight that greeted them was horrific.

Captain Vitellus could be seen clearly through the smoke, his Imperial sword in his hand, covered in blood. The white sheets of her parents' bed were also bloody and the two shapes in the bed weren't moving.

"No!" Holmar shouted. With his own sword in his hand, he ran at Vitellus. He stabbed Vitellus straight in the chest and raised his feet off the ground. Vitellus had a surprised look until his eyes rolled back into his head and blood started dribbling out of his mouth. Holmar flung his sword down, causing Vitellus' body to slide off the sword. Holmar then slowly peeled back the sheets on the bed. This only served to confirm his fears and he sank to his knees by the bed, just as two more manor guards ran into the room.

"Holmar, we managed to kill about five of them but the rest got away. The situation is a lot worse for us – many of our people were killed while they were still asleep and-" The Nord stopped when he saw the bodies of the Thane and his wife in their bed. Holmar got up and turned to face the Nords.

"I need you all to stay here – I will travel with Jordis to Solitude where we will inform the High King and Falk Firebeard and I will also leave Jordis in the care of her uncle."

**"I was left under the supervision of Uncle Falk, where he assigned me to become a servant to Lady Kirste and later on her Housecarl. When she died during the Civil War, I was assigned to you. And here we are today."**

**Jordis, finished telling her story and set down her tankard. Alarik looked at her and saw that, despite the brave face she was putting on, tears were starting to well up in her eyes. **

**"And when you heard the name 'Marcurio' and his reference to Blackthorn Manor, you felt the anger rising?"**

**Jordis nodded.**

**"So, do you make this a regular habit? Finding and killing members of this patrol?"**

**"I'd like it to be a bit more regular than it is, but I have no idea about the names of the patrol and what happened to them."**

**Alarik smiled at her. "Then it's a good thing you have a Legate for a Thane. I will do whatever I can to make sure you get back your manor and that you bring those responsible to justice."**

**Jordis leaned forward.**

**"My Thane, I cannot ask you to do this – it is not your fight."**

**"Of course it is my fight – you are my Housecarl and this is affecting your duty, therefore it is affecting me. Let me help you, Jordis."**

**"Thank you, my Thane."**

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Another final message - that song I used isn't my own creation - I took an Irish folk song called 'The Rising of the Moon' and customised it to fit more with Tamriel than Ireland. There are lots of different versions of the song and the one I based this off was by the High Kings so please check that out to see how the tune goes. I have a lot more customised folk songs ready for later chapters as well so I hope you like them!


	8. Chapter 8

A bonus chapter as an apology for taking so long to upload! I know that before the new year I was uploading every other day, however, that may now drop down to uploading once a week, especially now that College has piled on the work. However, keep reading, keep favouriting/following and keep reviewing please! Thanks!

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**Castle Dour, Solitude**

Alarik walked up the street and into the Castle Dour Courtyard. As he walked past the Imperial soldiers stood to attention. He paid them no attention, as per usual. When they first started standing to attention for him he often responded but after realising that every soldier did it to him he quickly gave up on acknowledging it – they didn't expect a response, who was he to disappoint them?

He walked into the map room where Legate Rikke sat at a nearby table, eating a small meal.

"Ah, Rikke! How may you be on this fine day?"

"I am very well, Alarik – how are you?"

"I am absolutely fabulous today! Better than I have been in a long time!"

Rikke smiled suspiciously at him. "You'll have to forgive me, a life in the Legion does not bless me with a skill of reading what men say, so if you want something, you are going to have to be totally upfront and honest about it."

Alarik's own smile dropped slightly. "Ah, nothing gets past you! I need to see a combat report."

Rikke stood up and walked over to the huge bookshelf that was weighed down with a catalogue of combat reports. She started rifling through the index papers.

"When was the fight?"

"4E182. Late."

"Hmm. Funny, I don't remember any combat taking place that year, for a change." She had a look, finally pulling out a card. "Of course, I could be wrong. Let's see, 4E182. Was it in Skyrim?"

Alarik nodded.

"Haafingar?" Again, another nod.

Rikke looked down at the card again, and then looked up at Alarik.

"I'm afraid you don't have the clearance to see that report. Only those in the Legion of the rank General and above have access to the report." She shoved the card back onto the shelf and went back to her meal. Alarik sighed. He'd had a feeling that this wouldn't be easy. He sat down in the chair opposite Rikke.

"Look, Rikke, do you remember, during our campaign in Riften, when you went down, shot by a cruel and cowardly Stormcloak straight in the back of your leg, who was there to help you? Who stood over you, sword in one hand, shield in the other, slaying Stormcloaks left, right and centre?"

"It was you, Alarik."

"Exactly! And do you remember what you said to me, as you were stretchered off to the medical tent?"

Rikke sighed. "I said that I owed you one…"

"…That you owed me one," Alarik echoed Rikke's speech, "that's correct. Now, I need to call in that favour, Rikke. I need this report. I only want to see who was on the patrol and any casualties that were incurred, if at all."

Rikke looked up at him. "Is that it?"

"That is all." She relaxed considerably. "That's okay. Legates and above can view the nominal roll. Just not the activity." She went over and pulled out the card again.

"It will be on the third shelf from the door. Look under 'C' for classified. The clerk should be able to help you. Take this card and show it to him."

Alarik took the card.

"I am grateful for this," he said, "I'll buy you a drink sometime!" He ran up the stairs two at a time until he reached the records office. He knocked twice on the door and entered. A stuffy-looking clerk sat at a desk, filling out his own catalogue of books. He looked up when Alarik entered.

"Yes?" He asked haughtily.

"Erm," Alarik handed the card to him, "I'm looking for a combat report. I only need to see the names of those on the patrol and any casualties taken."

The clerk looked at the card and back to Alarik. "What rank are you?" He sneered.

"I'm a Legate," Alarik calmly replied. The clerk visibly stiffened up at the mention of a superior rank. He got up immediately out of his seat.

"Yes sir, right away! Just wait here, I'll bring the report to you." The clerk bustled off down a row of shelves. He arrived a few minutes later carrying a piece of paper.

"Here you are sir. The nominal roll for your report of interest."

"Do you mind if I borrow this for a couple of days?"

"You have until this time tomorrow sir, or it will be pain of death." The clerk chortled slightly at his own joke, but when he saw he had raised not even a smile from Alarik he lowered his head again.

"Thank you." Alarik took the paper and headed straight back to Proudspire Manor. When he walked through the door, he saw Jordis, sitting in one of the chairs, Bran leaning on her lap. She was stroking behind his ear, while he lay there, a content smile on his face. She looked up and saw Alarik smiling in the doorway. She motioned apologetically to the dog lying on her.

"I would get up, but…"

"No need." Alarik sat down at the same table as her and slid the note over to her. "That's it." Jordis leaned forward excitedly.

"This is everyone on the patrol and any casualties incurred as well." Jordis looked at the list.

"Hmm, only six died during the actual raid, including the commander" she mused, "I killed Marcurio, their Battlemage, in Riften as well as another soldier who I caught bragging about in a tavern. There he is!" She pointed excitedly at the list. "Hasphat Marcello. We can tick him off. So, altogether, there are seven dead. Gods, that means that twelve are remaining."

Alarik took the list back and scanned it quickly. Suddenly he jabbed his finger at a name on the list.

"Barknar! I've met him before!"

"You have?" Jordis asked. She stood up and Bran slid off her lap, giving a slight yelp. Jordis walked round and peered over Alarik's shoulder.

"Where did you see him?" Alarik leaned back on the chair and thought.

"It was in Ivarstead...why was I there... Throat of the World!" He finally exclaimed, "I was there to see the Greybeards!"

"You saw the Greybeards?"

"Of course I did. I'm Dragonborn, remember? I started to follow the Way of the Voice. As far as I remember, he was making a pilgrimage up the mountain as well. I think that's all he does now."

Alarik turned to look up at Jordis but didn't find her there. Instead, he looked round and saw her putting on her steel boots.

"There's no time to lose!" She half shouted, "we need to find him!"

**Ivarstead**

"There he is!" Alarik stood on the porch of the Vilemyr Inn, looking out over the village. He was pointing at a figure slowly walking over the bridge, heading up the Throat of the World.

"Here's what we'll do," Jordis whispered, "we'll wait until he's higher up the mountain, then kill him and ditch his body in the river." She started off but felt Alarik's big hand grip her steel-covered shoulder.

"Are you mad," he hissed, "kill him? When he doesn't come down from the mountain for the same meal that he has every evening everyone's going to get suspicious. We speak to him first, see if he knows the locations of any other members of the patrol."

Jordis shrugged Alarik's hand off of her, but he tightened his grip.

"Is that clear, _Housecarl_?"

"Yes, my Thane," Jordis said begrudgingly. Alarik finally released his hand from Jordis and she followed him to the Throat of the World, ears burning. Even after years in the service of others, she still felt the fire of anger inside her when she was reminded of her position. Had that Imperial patrol never ruined her life, she would still be living in Blackthorn Manor.

The pair of them crossed over the bridge, Alarik nodding curtly at two men who were casually chatting by the bridge. They nodded back, then turned to pass their greeting to Jordis but she kept her head down and carried on walking.

As they started up the steps, Alarik stopped and turned to her.

"There may be all manner of beasts up this mountain, nobody is paid to clear them out and the guard won't bother their arses about it. Keep your sword out and your eyes open."

Jordis nodded and pulled out her steel sword, shield also at the ready. They kept climbing up the steps, following the steep incline of the mountain until Alarik stopped. He pointed at someone a short distance away, kneeling at a stone shrine.

"You see him?" Alarik said, "That's Barknar. He carries out this pilgrimage every day, never going further than this shrine. There's about ten of them but he always stops at the second. I don't want to attack and interrogate a man who is praying at a shrine – we'll wait here until he's finished."

As much as Jordis wanted to pin this man to the ground and gradually beat the location of every man on that list out of him, she realised that to kill a man while in prayer would almost certainly bar her from Sovngarde – something no true Nord wanted.

"I agree," she said, "we'll wait here. I managed to sneak some food out of the tavern while you spoke to the owner about where Barknar was." She reached into her bag and pulled out two apples and two bottles of mead. She passed one apple and bottle over to Alarik.

"Provisions, my Thane?" She said in a haughty tone. Alarik laughed and took them.

"A meal fit for a Jarl!" He commended, cutting off slices of the apple with a dagger.

After a few minutes, Barknar lifted his head and got up off the ground. He turned round and saw Alarik leaning against a rock, half a bottle of mead in his hand.

"Alarik? Is that you? Gods, you made it to the top then! And managed to get all the way back down again! Tell me what it's like at the top?"

Alarik pushed himself off the rock and walked over to Barknar.

"It's absolutely beautiful!" He exclaimed, "you should make your way to the top at some point. It's worth it to see all of Skyrim from a single point!"

Barknar laughed and clapped Alarik on the shoulder, "I'm an old man now – a journey like that would kill me! No, I'm happy making it this far every day. Now, I can't keep you anymore, so I'll let you carry on up."

Jordis stepped forward, slightly pushing Alarik out of the way. "Actually, we came here to speak to you."

"Me?" Barknar said, sounding slightly confused, "what business would a pretty young girl like yourself have with me?"

Jordis reached into a pouch by her side and pulled out the list of names from the patrol. She held it up to Barknar. Barknar immediately went pale as he recognized the names on the list.

"My name is Jordis. I am a Sword-Maiden and member of Clan Blackthorn." She started moving even closer to Barknar, one hand on the list and the other hand on her dagger, "I was there when you and the rest of those murdering bastards destroyed my family home and killed everyone I held dear. So, you'd better tell me any names you recognize on this list and maybe, just maybe, I might let you climb down the mountain in one piece."

Barknar collapsed in the snow next to the shrine, sobbing gently.

"The Legion was my life," he said, "I couldn't think of anything else I could be doing. I loved it, and they took advantage of this. Made me do this mission. I hated it – quit as soon as I could. I thought, 'if I spend the rest of my life making this pilgrimage, I would be atoned when I reach Sonvgarde'". He pointed at a name on the list, just below his own.

"Aelius Octavia. Loved killing. Probably would have joined the Dark Brotherhood had it existed. I saw it in his eyes during the massacre. He was smiling as he killed women and children. Last I heard he had become a bandit leader, operating at Valtheim Towers, on the White River, with him, him, him and him." Barknar's hand dropped slightly each time he pointed at name on the list, systematically stabbing each name as if poking them in real life. He then gestured at the road through Ivarstead.

"Just follow the road down and then to the left and you should reach Valtheim Towers in no time. Please, let me go. I haven't harmed anyone or anything since that night. All I've done is climb up to here, prayed and then travelled back down again." He looked up at Jordis, eyes starting to fill up with tears again. Jordis put the piece of paper back into her oilskin pouch. She got down on one knee next to Barknar and put her arm around him.

"It tore you up, didn't it?" She said. All Barknar could do was nod.

"Shh..." she whispered. Then she slid out her Dwarven dagger and plunged it into Barknar's stomach, right up to the hilt. Barknar gasped but no sound came out. He looked at Jordis and saw her looking back, unflinching. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell backwards with Jordis' dagger still sticking out of him. Jordis slid her dagger out of him and wiped it clean on his clothes.

"I'm sure you're in Sovngarde," she said dismissively. Alarik, who had watched the whole event unfold just a few steps away, suddenly ran forward and knelt down beside Barknar's corpse.

"The fuck was that for?" Alarik yelled at Jordis., "Why did you kill him? You said you would let him go!"

"I lied," Jordis said indifferently. She slipped the dagger back into the sheath, "he had to die – he was a member of the patrol that burned my family house to the ground and killed all that lived there!"

"And he spent his life since then travelling up and down the Throat of the World praying for forgiveness!" Alarik roared. Then he checked himself and spoke again, this time a bit quieter.

"We go to Valtheim and that is it. We clear the towers and then you are dismissed from my services. I don't want to see you again after that."


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys! I am so pumped for this story now - I completed the plan yesterday and there is so much good stuff coming your way! That's why, as it says in my bio, I will definitely be uploading a new chapter EVERY WEDENSDAY without fail and if the story is going well then I may be uploading a chapter on Saturdays as well.

Just a quick warning - after chapter ten has been uploaded on Saturday I will be changing the rating of the story to M - I fear that I have been pushing the limits of the 'T' rating for a while and these next couple of chapters certainly take it above and beyond that. So please follow the story to receive updates, because FanFiction doesn't show 'M' rated chapters as standard.

Thanks again for being so patient everyone and I hope you enjoy!

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**Near Valtheim Towers**

"Bandit guarding the only way in, they seem to be operating some sort of toll on passers-by..." Alarik mused, watching as the bandit shook down another traveller for money.

"Great, so there's only one way in," Jordis said, pulling her steel sword out of its scabbard, "that makes things easier."

"Now hang on," Alarik warned, "there may be a way we can distract them. Maybe I could cause a commotion out the front, so you could go in and kill them one by one."

"Too long," Jordis announced, standing up, holding her sword, "We should just go in."

"Just give me a second to prepare," Alarik put his map back in his bag and pulled out a potion of healing, "I'll be ready in a few-?"

He looked up and saw that Jordis was already running down the hill, heading directly for the bandit guarding the door. He watched as she ran straight at the woman and practically leapt on her, driving her sword all the way into the bandit's stomach. She then pulled it out and ran through the door into the tower.

"Shit!" Alarik swore. He stuffed everything into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He then pulled his battleaxe off his back and ran down the hill after Jordis. He jumped over the bandit and straight through the door into Valtheim, where an Orc bandit towered over him, brandishing a greatsword, which he was whirling above his head. As the Orc brought it swinging down Alarik ducked underneath it, jabbing the Orc in the stomach with his axe. The Orc doubled over, giving Alarik the perfect timing to bring his axe down on the Orc's neck. The cut was clean and the head rolled away.

Alarik ran up two flights of stairs, finally reaching the top of the tower. The archer at the top had drawn his bow and was aiming it right at Jordis, who was running along the bridge towards the second tower. Alarik quickly swung his axe and cut the taut bowstring. The bow jumped out of the archer's hand and the arrow snapped in two. The archer looked at Alarik and reached for his dagger. Alarik wasted no time at all and shouted as loud as he could "_Fus Ro Dah!_"

As he shouted, he felt a thunderous feeling swirl about from within him. It rolled from his stomach through his throat and practically exploded out of his mouth. His victim was flung off the edge of the tower, screaming in surprise and the wooden shelter on top of the tower rocked slightly, but Alarik felt no different. A surprise, considering that he had just pushed against the entire planet of Nirn. He looked down at the bridge and saw that Jordis was fighting someone on it.

"Jordis!" He tried to shout, but he failed to get his voice above more than a whisper. He jumped down the stairs and ran out onto the bridge, where he was greeted with the bandit on his knees and Jordis pointing her sword at his neck. He ran across the bridge, just catching what Jordis was saying.

"Is your name Aelius Octavia?"

"What's it to you, whore?"

"You speak confidently, for a man with a blade to his neck." Jordis pressed the blade into his neck for emphasis. The man winced as a small trickle of blood stemmed from the wound.

"Are you Aelius Octavia, who murdered the members of Clan Blackthorn?" Alarik could tell she was trying to be calm, but emotion was slowly starting to come through in her voice. Aelius nodded.

"Were there four other members of your bandit gang who also took part in the patrol?" Again, another nod.

"Are they dead?" Aelius nodded, his head now hanging low. Jordis smiled smugly, watching as the bandit leader knelt defeated. She raised her sword slightly from Aelius' neck before plunging it into his throat. The blade went straight through his neck and poked out the other side, shiny with his blood. Jordis put her boot on his chest and pushed him off her blade. His corpse fell backwards off the bridge and into the White River. She then finally sheathed her sword and turned to face Alarik.

"There," she smiled as she spoke, "the towers are cleared and we can move on! Now, where to next on the list?"

Alarik moved forward so that he stood opposite her on the middle of the bridge.

"You do remember that I said I would dismiss you from my service after this?"

Jordis' face fell slightly at the mention of this. "Oh. You were being serious?"

"Yes, I was being serious!" Alarik shouted, "I know that I have gained a certain reputation because I am both Dragonborn and a Legate in the Imperial Legion, but I still don't want a Housecarl who visibly enjoys killing people!"

"Oh, killing people is bad, but chasing after dragons isn't?" Jordis shouted back, "I remember what happened after we cleared out Fort Hraggstad – you chased after a dragon and left me..."

Jordis' voice trailed off as she looked over Alarik's shoulder. Standing on the rock, a short distance away from the second tower was a bandit, holding a drawn bow and aiming straight at Alarik. All she could do was watch as he loosed the arrow.

"Gods, no!" Jordis instinctively stepped sideways, pulling out her own bow. The bandit's arrow sailed through the air and dug itself into Alarik's back. He took two paces forward from the speed of the arrow hitting him and reached behind him. His hand touched the wooden shaft of the arrow and when he looked at his hand it was wet and sticky with his blood. He felt himself going slightly faint. It seemed that all his mind could concentrate on was the pain that was now throbbing in both his head and his back. He sank to his knees, right where the bandit had knelt before he had died. Alarik smiled slightly at the irony. He looked up at Jordis, who was looking back at him horrified. She ran to his side and felt the arrow herself. It had lodged quite deep in his back. She took hold of the shaft and pulled gently. Alarik braced up suddenly, crying out and Jordis immediately let go. She stood up again and looked into Alarik's eyes, her own ones filling up with tears.

"I'm so sorry," she said, but Alarik couldn't hear her. All he saw was her lips moving.

_What is she saying?_ He thought to himself. _Who even shot me? Fuck, that pain is not letting up_. It reached a point where his eyes suddenly became very heavy and it was taking a lot of effort to keep them open. _Come on, focus,_ he thought to himself, _stay awake, don't close those eyes_.

In extreme cases of pain, however, the body does what it wants to and despite Alarik's best efforts, his eyes closed and he fell off the bridge and into the White River.

Jordis watched as Alarik's body fell backwards off the bridge. She resolvedly turned her attention to the bandit who had fired the arrow.

_Need to take care of him first,_ she thought. She nocked an arrow to her bow and drew back. The bandit had hidden behind a rock to get a fresh arrow and Jordis scanned the rocks for him. She saw his head, moving about as he nocked his own arrow. Jordis focussed on the target and held her breath. She concentrated and let the bowstring slip effortlessly through her fingers. The arrow launched off the bow, spiralling through the air until it lodged itself in the bandit's skull. His head disappeared from Jordis' view behind the rock and she felt a slight sense of pride flow through her. Then she remembered why she had made the shot in the first place and she looked down at the White River again. She watched as Alarik, who was now face down, went over the White River waterfall.

"Shit, no, not now!" She said to herself. She dumped as much equipment as she could afford to on the bridge and stood on the edge. She looked down. _Long way to fall,_ she thought grimly, _even if you are dead._

She closed her eyes, said a quick prayer to Talos and dived into the White River, hoping that she would be taken over the waterfall smoothly and would find Alarik there as well, smiling and waiting for her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Just outside Darkshade**

The smell was what really woke Jordis up. It didn't matter how big a waterfall you had just gone over, the putrid stench of rotting flesh was more than enough to bring you back into the mortal plane. Jordis took one sniff in her semi-conscious state and immediately sat bolt-upright, retching as she did so. She looked round to see what had caused the smell and saw a small cave, with the remains of several people strewn around it. Her stomach dropped as she thought that maybe Alarik was in those remains and her head started spinning around wildly, looking for him. She saw him a small distance away, washed up on the bank of the river. She got up onto her weak and tired legs and walked unsteadily over to him. She looked at his mouth, trying to detect any movement, but couldn't see any. Remembering what her previous Thane had taught her about a dead animal, she laid her ear next to his mouth and looked down his chest. Relief flooded through her when she saw that his chest was rising and falling very slightly. She also felt his hot breath against her ear.

_Excellent,_ she thought, _he's alive, but I need to get him out of the open. It'll be night soon and with an arrow in him, he won't last long_.

She gently manoeuvred him into a sitting position and lifted him up slowly. With one of his arms round his neck, she half dragged, half carried him into the cave, kicking the human remains out of the way.

The cave was relatively spacious and surprisingly well-lit, if a bit damp. Jordis looked round and saw a small, dry patch of ground high up. She managed to drag Alarik up to the spot. When she got there, she put Alarik down carefully onto his side so that she could look at his wound.

Despite the fact that Jordis had very little experience in terms of medicine, she knew when an arrow wound looked bad. Some of the arrow shaft had snapped off from going over the waterfall, leaving only a small amount sticking out. Blood had stained what was left of his leather armour. Jordis propped him up so that he would stay on his side unsupported and she left the cave. She looked round and found her pack had washed up on the bank. She grabbed it and slung it on her back. She then went off and grabbed all manner of sticks, ranging from small twigs to big branches and carried them in her arms back to the cave. She piled all the small ones together and took out a piece from flint from her bag and her steel sword. Stabbing the steel sword into the pile of twigs, she quickly ran the flint up and down the steel sword. Sparks flew in all directions as the flint quickly became a blur on the sword, but it still took a while before the twigs caught light. When they finally did, Jordis took the slightly larger sticks and leant them over the fire, building it up so it would burn for longer and there would be more heat and light. She then set to work helping Alarik heal.

The first thing she did was reach into her pack and dig out a healing potion. She uncorked it and gently poured its contents into Alarik's mouth, cradling his head in her lap.

"Come on, come on," she said, half to herself and half to Alarik, "please work." However, the potion did very little. His breathing was a little bit stronger, but he still remained unconscious. Jordis slid her pack underneath his head as she got up, maintaining some sort of pillow. She then went round to Alarik's back and slid out her dagger. She decided that the first thing she had to do was cut off the armour so that she had unrestricted access to the wound.

She slid the dagger underneath the tattered clothing and cut all the way along the leather, peeling it off Alarik's back as she went. The leather was a sticky combination of blood and water and it clung to Alarik's skin. Finally, she managed to clear Alarik's back of the armour and she saw, for the first time, her Thane's back in full.

Scars, both prominent and faded, littered Alarik's body. There were claw marks, old wounds from blades, burn marks and bruises as well. Jordis knelt in silence as she traced her finger over some of the scars. She had had no idea that her Thane had seen so many fights – she had thought that he had spent the civil war in a clerk's office and hadn't seen any battles, but just looking at this proved her completely wrong.

Tracing along the scars eventually led her back to the arrow wound. She grimaced, knowing what she had to do to save his life. She uncorked another potion of healing and kept it near her this time, ready for when she needed it.

The first thing she had to was check and see if the arrowhead had lodged itself into a bone. She took what was left of the arrow shaft in her hands and slowly started to twirl it. Thankfully, the shaft of the arrow gave no resistance and twirled in her hands. _Good,_ she thought, _that means the arrowhead was not lodged in bone_. However, she did now have to remove the arrowhead, and do so soon. A rusty arrowhead lodged in the body could do permanent damage. She took her dagger and wiped it on a piece of cloth, getting rid of the blood on it. She then said a quick prayer to Talos, hoping that she wouldn't kill her Thane.

Jordis placed the dagger next to the arrow shaft, and slowly pushed down, widening the arrow wound. When the wound was open enough, she removed the dagger and slipped her gauntlet off her hand. She put her bare hand into the wound and pressed on through the skin until she found the arrowhead. She took hold of the shaft with her other hand and slowly lifted the arrow out of Alarik's back, using her bare hand to clear any flesh and tissue out of the way of the arrowhead as it made its way out of Alarik's body. A few minutes later and the arrow cleared Alarik's body and was sitting in Jordis' hand, the iron head covered in blood. She threw it to one side and took the potion of healing. She poured a small amount over the wound which was now bleeding a lot again. She took out a roll of bandages from her pack and soaked them in the potion of healing. She lifted up Alarik's armour from the rest of his torso and wrapped the bandage all the way round him, keeping it tight and constantly checking to see if the wound was bleeding through the bandages. Thankfully the wound had stopped bleeding and so Jordis tied off the bandage. She unrolled her own bedroll from her pack and laid it out on the opposite side of the fire to Alarik, so that she was facing him. She quickly stripped off her armour and laid it out near the fire in an attempt to dry it out. She was about to do the same with her underwear but something made her stop. She looked over at Alarik, who still appeared to be fast asleep. She went over to him and waved her hand in front of his face. No response. She clapped her hands loudly a couple of times. Still nothing. She went back over to her own sleeping roll and was about to continue undressing but she stopped again and looked over at Alarik. Cursing herself softly, she slid into her sleeping roll wearing wet underwear. _If I get the chills because I was afraid that my unconscious Thane was looking at me undress, then I'll never forgive myself_, she thought grimly, as her sheer exhaustion ultimately took over her and she fell into a heavy sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for your continued support in reading - please don't forget to review and let me know where I'm going wrong/right - I read all reviews and take each of them into account when I write future chapters!

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When Alarik woke up, it was to a completely different scene than the one Jordis had woken up to. He could hear the hearty crackle of a log fire and through his eyelids he could see the golden flames dancing. A pleasing warmth filled him and when he opened his eyes he was surprised to find that he was in a cave. It had felt more like Breezehome, in Whiterun, with Lydia, or Proudspire Manor, in Solitude, with... Jordis.

Alarik's stomach dropped as the memory of what happened at Valtheim flooded back to him. The argument he had had with Jordis on the Throat of the World, her running through Valtheim Towers, and shouting that both of them had done on the bridge right before the shot.

Alarik sat up slowly, expecting a great deal of pain as he pushed his bedroll off of him, but instead met no resistance as he sat up. He looked down at his torso and saw that his armour had been cut off. He looked around and saw it cast aside next to the fire. His right hand went to his back where an arrow had been sticking out of it. He felt no wooden shaft, but instead soft fabric. He looked down again. A bandage had been placed around his middle and there was no sign of blood coming from the wound. He climbed out of the bedroll and saw that he had on a pair of ragged trousers and his leather boots, which Jordis had kept in her pack. "Just in case," she had always said, whenever Alarik had mocked her about it. Now, he was very glad that she kept them.

He noticed that Jordis, rather surprisingly, wasn't in the cave. She hadn't left though – her bedroll was still laid out and her pack seemed to be doubling up as her pillow.

Suddenly he heard a noise from the mouth of the cave. He wheeled round, furiously looking for a weapon and grabbed a dagger by the fire. He started moving cautiously towards the front of the cave, listening to the noise and trying to figure out what animal it was. However, the noise didn't sound like an animal. It sounded far more beautiful than that. Alarik racked his brain, going through his mental bestiary of creatures with beautiful voices. It couldn't be spriggans, could it? Cautiously, Alarik began to step outside and what he saw threw him completely.

In the lake, just outside the cave, was his Housecarl, Jordis, bathing. Alarik could only stand and stare at her beauty. Her pale skin gave off a faint glow as she bathed, and her blonde hair was a few shades darker than Alarik remembered it, but that was probably because it was wet. Open-mouthed, he saw Jordis scoop up some of the water and ran it over her arms, one at a time. She then cupped more water from the lake and tipped it gently onto her face. Alarik watched as the water ran in rivulets down her taut body, tracing the curve of her breasts as much as Alarik's own eyes did. As his eyes moved down her body they stopped short at her waist, as the rest of her body was hidden by the sapphire-blue water. Immediately the juvenile Nord in his mind started to conjure up a plan as to how he was going to get her out of the water.

As Jordis bathed, she sang softly to herself, a song that she had heard growing up in Solitude.

"_By your bonnie banks, and by your bonnie hills, Where the sun shines, on Lake Hornrich, Where me and my true love spent many days, On the banks of Lake Hornrich._

_Too sad we parted in that shady glen, On the steep sides of Ben Hornrich, Where the broken heart knows no second harvest, Resigned, we must be, when we're parting._

_Oh you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road, And I'll be in Skyrim before you! Where me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Lake Hornrich._

_Where wild flowers spring and the young birds sing, On the steep steep sides of Ben Hornrich, But the broken heart knows no second harvest, Though resigned we may be while we're loving."_

THUD

Jordis instinctively around to see what had broken the previously peaceful silence, but to no avail – the forest seemed to have gotten quiet again. She edged over to the bank where her armour and underwear were lying. When she was a short distance from them, she rushed out of the lake and started running to her clothes. She had left her armour underneath the branch of a tree and as she looked up at the branch she saw Alarik, sitting nonchalantly, a broad smile on his face. Jordis quickly dived behind a nearby tree.

"My Thane!" She called out from behind the tree, "it's good to see you are up and moving about!"

"The same to you, Jordis," he called back, "I feared for you considerably!"

This was a surprise to Jordis – when she had last spoken to her Thane he almost wanted to kill her.

"You feared for me, my Thane?" She asked.

"Yes!" Alarik replied, "I thought your voice had been damaged horrifically going over that waterfall – I had no idea that you could sing so beautifully!"

Jordis could feel herself blushing at the compliment but quickly shook herself out of it.

"It's not something that is necessary in my line of work," she said, "but armour and underwear are two very important things for a Housecarl, so if you would just throw mine over here so I could get changed in privacy I would be very grateful!"

"Where's the fun in that!" Alarik shouted, "come on, you removed my armour to get better access to my body! I'm not even asking you to take anything off – just not put it on!"

"My Thane," Jordis began, "I am a professional lady. My job is to protect my Thane, who happens to be you and I intend to do so as long as I am in your service. I needed to remove your armour so that I could clean up and tend to your wound, which if I hadn't done you surely would have died, so I please ask you to respect my privacy and hand me my armour!"

Jordis peered round the tree she was hiding behind and looked up at the branch. She found nobody sitting on it, but her armour and underclothes lay underneath it, undisturbed. She looked around cautiously before running over and quickly putting it all on and buckling it up.

When she got back to the cave she saw Alarik leaning back on the wall of the cave by the fire. He had found a bottle of mead in Jordis' bag and smiled when he saw Jordis walk in.

"I'll be honest," Alarik said, "it sounded like you were going to go off on some boring tangent so I decided to come back to the cave."

"That doesn't matter, my Thane," Jordis said, "I can still call you 'my Thane', right?"

"Well, I've still not forgiven you for going against what I said," Alarik mused, "and then you got me shot, in case you've forgotten."

"But I did help you come back to full health!" Jordis retorted. Alarik laughed.

"True, true," he said, smiling. He watched as Jordis walked over and sat next to him. She then started to roll up her bedroll and put it back in her bag.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Well, I'm packing up, my Thane," she said, "I figured, now that you were feeling better you would want to leave this damp cave."

"Why?" He said, "Jordis, how long was I asleep for?"

"Two days," Jordis said, "today is the third day we have been here."

"Two days..." Alarik thought, "and in those two days, have we been shot at? Robbed? Stabbed?"

"No, my Thane," Jordis said.

"No. Exactly. Why the hurry? This is the first time in months I haven't had to fear for my life! Now, I know you want to tick more names off the list, but please. Just another day. For me."

"Another day?" Jordis asked, "what about your weapons? You lost them all going over the waterfall! And those ragged trousers are getting more ragged by the hour! We need to restock, rearm and..."

Alarik silenced her by placing his big hand on her cheek. He kissed her gently on the lips.

"All I need right now is in this damp, dark cave."

He leaned in to kiss her again. At first, Jordis was taken by surprise but she quickly returned the kiss, pushing Alarik over as she did so. She climbed on top of him, never breaking the kiss. They lay like that for a few moments until Alarik finally broke the kiss. Jordis ran her hands up and down Alarik's torso, now tracing both the scars and Alarik's muscles.

"Something's not right," Alarik said, his face showing a serious look.

Jordis' smile quickly disappeared.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Suddenly his smile was back again.

"You're wearing too much," he said, "look at me compared to you. Not fair, is it?"

Jordis threw her head back and laughed.

"Very well, my Thane," she teased. She reached behind her, arching her back as she did so, her chest pushed forward into Alarik's face. She found the leather buckle on the back of her armour and undid it quickly. She then undid the side straps and eased the armour over her head, leaving her with just her bra on. She stood up and kicked off her boots. Then, making sure Alarik was watching, she unfastened the steel greaves from around her waist and turned round, so she was facing away from Alarik. Then she slowly slid the greaves down her legs, revealing, inch by inch, the pale skin that had been hidden from Alarik in the lake outside. Alarik lay there, watching and smiling to himself as Jordis finally stepped out of her greaves and stood there in her underwear, the fire casting a light over one half of her body, leaving the other half in a mysterious shadow.

She crawled over enticingly to Alarik and knelt beside him, running her hand up and down his bare chest.

"It's your turn now, my Thane," she whispered. Alarik smiled and lifted himself off the ground and pushed his ragged trousers off. He kicked them out of sight and rolled over so that he was on top of Jordis, his weight supported by his big arms either side of her. He leaned in and kissed her again, starting with her lips and moving slowly down her body, moving from her neck, to her breasts, down to her stomach until he reached her pants. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down, kneeling up so he could remove them from Jordis' legs, one after the other. His fingers ran back up her legs, sending shivers down her spine which increased as Alarik's big hands neared her core. Finally he lay down again and kissed her there. Just once, but enough to allow a moan to escape her lips. Alarik looked up and smiled at her, then looked down again and gently slid a finger between her folds, all the while keeping his tongue flat against her. Above him, he could hear Jordis moaning softly and he felt her adjust slightly, as he started moving his finger in and out. His tongue moved upwards a bit and found her nub, which he then circled slowly, much to Jordis' enjoyment. A second finger joined his first inside her and he quickened the pace of their movement. Jordis could feel her orgasm coming and she ran her fingers through Alarik's hair. Her hips started to buck against Alarik's fingers and tongue and her moans gradually grew louder. Alarik's thumb replaced his tongue and he rubbed her there while his tongue started to circle one nipple through the fabric of the bra. Jordis' arms wrapped themselves around Alarik wherever they could as she rode out her orgasm, her whole body shuddering as she did so.

While she lay there, regaining her breath from her first orgasm with Alarik, he rolled back off her and slowly slid his fingers out of her. He looked at them, before dipping each one in his mouth one by one. Jordis looked at him doing this for a few moments and then reached for his underwear, nearly tearing it off and freeing his member. It stuck out from his body and Alarik climbed on top of her again. Jordis felt him enter her, slowly at first so she could get used to him and then he would pull back. Each thrust Alarik made was a little further inside her and soon he had a steady rhythm going, causing Jordis to gasp and feel a bolt of pleasure each time their bodies came together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, almost willing him to drive further into her. His pace started to quicken, the thrusts into her happening faster and faster as she felt another wave start to ride over her. She felt Alarik start to convulse as well and as he cried out he emptied his seed in her. The thrusts slowed down after that and Alarik withdrew from her, lying on top of his bedroll, his breathing heavy. Jordis moved so that she was next to him. She threw one arm over his chest and curled up next to him, lifting her leg over his. He looked down at her. She was breathing heavily as well but there was a content smile on her face. It had been a long time since he had seen a genuine smile from her, Alarik mused.

The fire soon burnt down so it was nothing more than a bed of embers, but neither of them moved to do anything about it.


	12. Chapter 12

When Alarik woke the following day, sunlight had flooded the cave. He looked around and saw Jordis packing things back into her bag. He sat up and Jordis looked over at him. She smiled when she saw he was awake.

"Good morning," she said, bringing a small wooden plate towards him. She knelt down next to him and kissed him. "How do you feel?"

"Better than I have in a long time," he replied, "is that for me?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed, "mudcrab legs. Found one of the little bastards outside. Wish I had some butter, could've made them into something a bit tastier than this, but it's all we have."

She remained kneeling next to Alarik while he ate. "Where to now, my Thane?"

Alarik looked up. "Whiterun," he said, "I completely agree with what you said last night, about needing to restock and rearm. If we are where I think we are, then Whiterun is my closest house from here. We'll go there first and it'll be good to get back to civilization."

He scraped the plate clean and put it into Jordis' bag, which was open in her hands. Then he kissed her and stood up, searching for his trousers. When he found them, he put them on, much to Jordis' dismay.

"Seems a bit of a shame to get dressed again," she said, "after what happened last night."

**Whiterun**

"It's one of these keys, I know it is," Alarik said, half to himself and half to Jordis. He was standing outside Breezehome, his house in Whiterun, flicking through a giant ring of keys.

"Why do you have so many?" Jordis asked.

"A couple are for houses I own, quite a few are for houses I don't, there are keys to cells, cages, chests, trapdoors, regular doors and doors to worlds that haven't been visited in hundreds of years. Ah! Found it!"

His fingers gripped a small key which he put in the lock and turned. The tumblers clicked into place and he pushed the door open.

"Lydia!" He called out as he stepped inside, "Where are you?"

There came a loud thud from upstairs. Both Jordis and Alarik looked up and Jordis' hand instinctively went to a dagger by her side. Then came a few more hurried thuds along the floor that sounded like footsteps and a young lady came hurrying down the stairs. She had on an undershirt that stopped short of her knees and her dark brown hair was dishevelled. She brushed it very quickly with her hair then beamed at Alarik.

"Yes, my Thane?"

"Lydia, I'd like you to meet Jordis, my Housecarl from Solitude. Jordis, this is Lydia. My Housecarl from Whiterun. Now, Lydia, if you would please move, I'd like to collect a few belongings from my room."

Lydia made no attempt to move.

"Lydia?" Alarik asked, "I asked you to move."

"I don't think that's a good idea, my Thane," she said.

"Oh, and please tell me why I shouldn't be able to go upstairs to my own bedroom in my own house!"

Jordis could practically hear Lydia thinking and she figured that there was something, or someone, up there that Alarik shouldn't see.

"Because... because there's skeevers in your room! I had to shut the door to keep them in there and stop them destroying the rest of the house," Lydia finally said.

"Skeevers? And a Housecarl such as yourself, trained in the use of axe and sword, was unable to defeat these creatures? Very well. I will do it myself. Jordis, the woodsman's axe if you please."

Jordis unbuckled the axe from her leg and handed it to Alarik. He looked up at Lydia and smiled.

"This is your last chance. Move out of the way or your fate will be the same as these _skeevers_ that have occupied my room."

Lydia stepped down the stairs and stood aside, her head hanging as Jordis watched Alarik ascend the stairs in her place. She heard the floorboards creak above her as she imagined Alarik walking cautiously along the floor, axe raised, ready to strike at the first thing to jump up at him.

Suddenly she heard a monstrous roar and noticed that Lydia's own face had turned to one of sheer terror. The roar from upstairs subsided just enough for Jordis to make out a phrase.

"Get out of my fucking house, bard!"

Jordis heard more thuds and then saw a young man practically fly down the stairs, throw the door open and bolt outside. He was followed rather closely by Alarik as he himself thundered down the stairs, axe whirling round his head. He burst through the door and stood in the street of Whiterun, watching the young man run to the Bannered Mare.

"I ever find you in my house again Mikael, I'll cut off that which makes you a man!" He shouted, shaking his axe as if to reinforce his threat. He stormed back inside and slammed the door behind him. He then rested the woodsman's axe against a wall and sat down in a chair. He reached into Jordis' bag which was resting against the wall and pulled out his pipe and tobacco. When he had lit the pipe and taken a few draws of it, he turned and looked expectantly at Lydia.

"Care to explain why a certain bard was lying in my bed?" He asked. Lydia's arms were folded in front of her, in a symbol of defiance.

"Because I was bored and lonely, okay? You have no idea how monotonous it is, waking up, cooking something for myself, sitting around, waiting for you to come through that door and take me with you on an adventure!"

Lydia started moving towards Alarik now. "And then the first time you step through that door in weeks and I find out that you've actually found a new adventuring companion in the shape of some good-looking blonde! Is that how you choose your followers? Based off their looks?" Lydia then turned to Jordis.

"You'll want to be careful. Next thing you know he'll be trying to sleep with you."

Jordis looked awkwardly at the ground. Lydia's eyes widened.

"He already has! Gods, Alarik, you don't hang around, do you!"

Alarik jumped to his feet, knocking the table he was sitting at over.

"I did not come here to lectured on morals by somebody who is probably ticking off the names of men in Whiterun as she goes! I'm going to get changed upstairs then I will head to the tavern, alone. Jordis, wait here with Lydia. I'll be back by the evening."

With that, he went upstairs and quickly put on some clothes. He buckled a dagger to his belt and went downstairs again.

"Jordis, when you have a free moment, take whatever you want or need from the chests in my rooms. Weapons in the one on the left, clothes in the one on the right."

He left and slammed the door behind them. Jordis turned to look at Lydia.

"Should I go after him?"

Lydia shook her head. "It's probably better that he works these things out with a bottle of mead."

She went over to the table that Alarik had knocked over and set it on its legs again. Then she sat down at the chair he had vacated. Jordis took her cue to sit down as well. Lydia laughed to herself. Jordis looked up.

"What?"

"Look at us," Lydia said, "there's you, the eager new Housecarl. Always in your steel armour, weapon strapped to your side, no doubt volunteering to do all the difficult jobs so that your Thane doesn't even get his hands dirty. And then there's me." Lydia pointed at herself. "I don't even bother to keep up the appearance of even an average Housecarl."

"Why did Alarik stop taking you on adventures?" Jordis asked. Lydia got up and went to a cupboard. She pulled out two bottles of Black-Briar mead and gave one to Jordis.

"Lost interest in me, I suppose," she said, taking a swig, "when I first became his Housecarl I was so happy. He had just saved the city at the time and was the most popular man in the Hold. You can imagine my pride. The Hero of Whiterun and me! His Housecarl! However, he never did anything interesting when I was his Housecarl. He had grown quite interested in Nordic history and just seemed to spend a lot of time looking through books in the library at the College of Winterhold. Sometimes he would send me off to look for a specific book. That was all I was to him," she finished morosely, draining the last of her bottle, "some lackey meant to find him another book on Nordic ruins. In a way, I was quite glad when he dismissed me. I waited for weeks, following the same routine. Eat, sleep, wait for my Thane, repeat. Eventually I realised that he wasn't actually coming back, not for a long time anyway and so I started going to the tavern more and sometimes pitching in with Companions work. But today was the first time I ever brought someone back to the house.

"So tell me," she said, "what exciting activity has he got you doing?"

Jordis recited her entire story to Lydia, starting with how her father had been given an extremely unreasonable deadline to meet, to how the Thalmor and the Empire broke their promise about granting Lorkmir safety to the Imperial patrol and what they did nineteen years ago.

"...and that's why I have this list," she finished, digging the crumpled piece of paper out of its oilskin pouch and handing it to Lydia, "it has the names of everyone who was on the patrol. We have killed quite a few, but there are still four names left. I know this is a long shot, but I don't suppose you know any of those names?"

Lydia's eyes scanned the list. Jordis watched them intently, looking for a sign of recognition among them, but for the majority of the time there was none. Until finally, just as Lydia reached the bottom of the list, her eyes widened. Jordis stood up excitedly.

"What? Who?"

"This name," Lydia pointed at one on the list. Jordis rushed over and stood behind Lydia, "Vignunn Maulhand. A few weeks ago, a Legion messenger came up to me in the street. He had a letter addressed to that name."

"Where can we find Vignunn?" Jordis asked, her voice getting higher as she sensed they were getting closer to striking another name off.

"Vignunn Maulhand doesn't exist." Lydia said. Jordis' face fell.

"However, I saw the Imperial courier handing over the letter to Idolaf Battle-Born. Maybe he took on a different name for the mission, so as to make sure people like you wouldn't come after him."

"Well then we can't wait!" Jordis exclaimed, heading for the door, "we need to find Idolaf at once!"

"You really don't know about Clan Battle-Born, do you?" Lydia asked. Jordis shook her head.

"Clan Battle-Born is one of two major families in Whiterun. They hold a lot of power in the city. You kill any of their family and you will never be safe, regardless of where you go. You need to think of a better way to get rid of him than just walking up and killing him."

"I'll go find Alarik and tell him what you said," Jordis said, heading out into Whiterun.

She found Alarik in the Bannered Mare, at a table on his own, casually smoking his pipe. She slid in to the seat opposite him.

"There's another member of the patrol, here in Whiterun!" She nearly shouted with excitement.

"Ssshh!" Alarik's head whipped round, making sure that nobody had heard Jordis, "you want the whole town to know we're going about, killing ex-Legionnaires?" He then leaned back on his seat. "Okay, who is it and where are they?"

Jordis recounted precisely the conversation that she had with Lydia about Idolaf and the other name he had used in the Legion. While she spoke, Alarik thoughtfully smoked his pipe. When she finished, Alarik remained quiet for a few more minutes. Finally, he spoke again.

"This one is going to be tricky," he said, "but I have an idea of what to do. Idolaf is an avid gambler. He can never say no to a game of dice. So I'll challenge him to one, tonight, here in the tavern. He'll beat me, I'll get angry and kill him."

"But what if the guards try and arrest you for murder?"

"I don't doubt they will," Alarik mused, "but if they do, I'll show them this."

He held out his right hand. On his little finger sat a golden ring with the emblem of Whiterun, a horse, engraved on the top.

"The signet ring of Whiterun," he said, "I got this to show to people that I am a Thane of Whiterun. I am excused for a crime worth up to 2000 gold in bounty. I'd been saving it for when I really needed it. I'm glad I did.

"Now, pack everything that we will need and get ready to leave. I will come and collect you from Breezehome."


End file.
